


bein' with you is just like ridin' a bike, pal

by siriuslyuptonogood



Series: Made For You [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Corporal Punishment, Dom Bucky Barnes, Dom/sub, Domestic Discipline, M/M, Mentioned Bad BDSM Etiquette, Spanking, Sub Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:42:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22536457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siriuslyuptonogood/pseuds/siriuslyuptonogood
Summary: Back in Brooklyn and before the war, Steve and Bucky embarked on a dominant/submissive relationship with carefully negotiated rules and boundaries. It followed them overseas, even when Steve was no longer small and easy to heave over Bucky's lap, right up until Bucky "died." But it was hard for Steve to let go of his rules, the ones that had always left him feeling safe. Even after he woke up from the ice.But when Bucky came back, it wasn't like everything just got to slide back in place. Took a long time for Bucky to even kiss him again that Steve isn't sure he can even mention the way they used to be. But when Steve does something he knows violates the first, most important rule and Bucky gives him a look of disappointment, guilt starts to build. Not just for this event, but for everything that he's kept inside since Bucky went away all those years ago.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Made For You [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1621540
Comments: 24
Kudos: 320





	bein' with you is just like ridin' a bike, pal

Steve is scared. Well. Scared is, perhaps, not the right word. He's never, not in his whole life, been afraid of James Buchanan Barnes, not even during punch after punch to his face with that damn metal arm. However, he is absolutely terrified of letting him down. And now that he knows he's done it, there is a feeling, a bad, very very bad feeling in the pit of his stomach, slowly creeping outward. Steve knows it'll eventually reach the tips of his fingers and toes, that it'll make his mouth go dry and his tongue feel gummy. He may be Captain America and constantly feel the weight of not wanting to let people down, but Bucky is the one person whose disappointment wrecks him. From the look Bucky gives him as soon as the orders were given (by the Cap himself) that the Avengers were to hold back while Steve goes in first, alone, he knows he is disappointed.

The fewer people in danger, the better. And if he can get in, neutralize the target, and get out without being noticed, then why not do it? The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the one. Only Steve can't say this. Because he got it from Star Trek and because Tony would laugh right in his face. Buck is just gonna have to understand.

Except Steve is pretty sure that this is definitely what Bucky would call, putting himself in unnecessary danger by being a self-sacrificing asshole and that is basically rule number one. No, not basically. Those are the exact words that Bucky made Steve write a hundred times while sitting pants down on the hard wooden chairs that didn't quite match their kitchen table. He hadn't thought they were any harder than any other chairs until he'd had to sit on them right after Bucky had finished taking the wooden spoon to his skinny ass. Then he was convinced that the asshole had purposefully gotten extra hard chairs just to torture him. He'd said it out loud too. And he'd just gotten a laugh, a hair tousle and "finish your lines, punk."

But that was before the war. When Steve was small and sickly, and Bucky was convinced he was gonna end up dead from one of those fights he kept getting into. Rule one was just the beginning. They had eight at the end. Almost all about Steve's well-being. No lying, too. The last two had been... well different, had marked the shift in their relationship. Steve was expected to be respectful, to call Bucky sir when they were doing all that. And Steve's orgasms belonged to Bucky. He had to ask nicely. No exceptions.

But then Bucky was drafted. Steve got left behind. He'd never felt so alone before. Always worried. Right up until he was over there. And boy, was Bucky mad to see him. Steve was pretty sure his ear would be twisted right off and whined, actually whined (which must have been hilarious to see, beefy Captain America getting dragged by his ear like a little boy.

"This is the dumbest shit you've ever done, punk," Bucky said, "you're supposed to be home. Safe. Don't you think for one minute this big body is gonna keep you from going over my knee like the naughty little boy we both know you are."

And it hadn't. But after, Bucky held him so tight. "I missed you so much, Stevie," he breathed against his skin, "thanks for saving my life."

They had their moments. Steve never quite got rule number one through his head and Bucky wore out his belt. Had been so mad when the damn thing broke, but that had given way to laughing when Bucky dropped the belt on the floor and sighed, "punk, your super butt broke my damn belt. How am I gonna hold my pants up now?" And Steve offered to hold them up for him, absurd as that was.

Bucky going off to war hadn't prepared him for the worst day of his life. Even through his worry, Steve had always just known Bucky would come back to him. But he couldn't come back from the dead. Yeah, until he absolutely did.

When Bucky came back, he didn't remember a lot. Didn't mention even more. Took him a year to kiss Steve, to hold him, tell him he missed him. Now it's been two years and the rules still haven't come up once. Bucky's never threatened to put him over his knee or send him to the damn corner like before.

Steve still struggles. He knows his rules. Memorized them long, long ago, so he could recite them if asked. Usually wasn't, but he could do it. Breaking them makes him feel guilty. He's hooked up a few times with Dom types, but they weren't right. They weren't Bucky. And he isn't much for sex. Has almost no desire. Hates coming without Bucky's permission, even when he thought he was dead. Some words might describe what he is. Demi-sexual, asexual. But he's not so sure. He thinks maybe he's just like his ma. She'd found her person and there just wasn't ever another. Bucky is, and always will be, Steve's person. Dead or alive.

The mission goes well enough. Backup had needed to come in when Steve accidentally tripped a laser alarm. He'd gotten a little roughed up before the others came in, a couple of good punches to his face. A broken nose. Though Bucky fixes that pretty quick by curling his fingers into Steve's hair, a quick, familiar rush of good pain and waiting until Steve relaxes to pop the thing back into place. His eyes water and they linger like that a second before they are heading back to the quinjet. They don't talk. When they get back to HQ, Bucky goes down to his small apartment instead of Steve's, where he spends most of his time usually. And god, Steve wants to cry. He showers and gets right into bed in just boxers and a t-shirt of Bucky's that is definitely too small for him, but he needs it, okay?

He doesn't sleep. The bad feeling is currently about in the crooks of his elbows and knees and buzzing around his throat. Everything is terrible and he's just a fuck up who lets everyone down. And Bucky is upset with him. And he's pretty sure he is the worst person to ever exist. And even thinking that makes him feel worse because he knows better than to be a bully to Bucky's best guy. He's gotten his mouth washed out with a bar of soap more times than he'd like to admit because he'd said some of the things he is currently thinking out loud. But they are all true and no wonder Bucky hasn't mentioned the rules. He, understandably, doesn't want to have to deal with fuck up Steve Rogers, who is an adult man and should know better.

It's too much and Steve sobs a little into his pillow. Maybe he'll tire himself out crying, but no. He still can't sleep.

That's really how he ends up, wrapped up in the blue blanket Bucky had knit him for Christmas (because one of the therapists had suggested that he try to "reclassify" his hands. From weapons that had hurt people, to tools that could make beautiful things. Ceramics had been a bust. And he'd never had much patience for art, just always liked looking at what Steve did, so he'd settled on knitting. And loved it. Spent a lot of money on yarn. Had recently branched out to crocheting), standing outside Bucky's door at 2:23 am.

Bucky, to his credit, doesn't question him. He (probably) takes in the red, puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks, and just pulls Steve inside.

Steve is silent until he is tucked under the blankets in Bucky's bed, the little spoon, something that usually makes him feel safe, but tonight he doesn't feel like he deserves it. Though he thinks he shouldn't be face to face with Bucky at this moment. Because he is sobbing quietly and very embarrassed about it. Which is stupid. It's Bucky. Though there is still that voice that says Bucky doesn't want him.

"Bucky," Steve says, finally able to get it out between sobs.

"I'm here, Stevie," Bucky replies, tightening the arm around Steve's middle.

"I broke the rules," Steve is in that awful hiccupy sob period and it's harder to talk

Bucky doesn't reply at first, just runs his cheek gently against Steve's shoulder, then asks, "Which ones?"

That just makes Steve cry harder and Bucky holds him tighter until the blonde finally manages, "all of 'em, Buck."

Bucky doesn't move at first, but then he sits up and reaches over to turn on the lamp next to his bed. He pushes Steve onto his back and is so gentle as he cards his fingers through that beautiful blonde hair.

"Far as I'm concerned, you only broke one. And I'm gonna deal with it. But all the others? Stevie, you were alone a long time before I rolled back in. I ain't gonna punish you for any of that. Or what's happened in the last two years. Because we were getting to know each other again. I needed to be able to trust myself. Scared to even touch you for so long. I am still afraid I'm gonna hurt you, some days." Bucky stroked his thumb gently across Steve's cheek, wiping away a few tears. "But seeing you like this, kid? Breaks my damn heart. You been keeping this shit inside. All the guilt and bad feelings just locked up tight. You've let yourself get bad this time, Stevie, and I just can't stand that. I'm gonna put you over my knee and you're gonna learn this lesson well, understood?"

Steve lets out a hiccupy breath and nods.

Bucky grips his chin hard. "That how you answer me, boy?"

"No sir," Steve squeaks, "s sorry. I understand sir."

"Good, now come on, you know the position."

Steve scrambles up and crawls over Bucky's lap. The metal hand rests gently on his lower back and the flesh one gently runs across the seat of Steve's underwear.

"Why am I spanking you, Stevie?"

"I broke rules, sir," he says but yelps as the tips of Bucky's fingers catch his inner thigh.

"Try again. Be specific."

"I... uh ignored how I was feeling?"

"Good, keep going."

Steve closes his eyes. "Let the bad bad feeling get to my fingers and toes 'fore I came to tell you, sir."

"Good," Bucky says, "and that's it. That's all. But let me tell you if you ever do what you did on this mission again, if you ever run headfirst into danger when you know damn well you have a team to support and protect you, I'll tear your ass up with the thick leather strap I ordered today. You ain't never gonna break one of my belts again with this damn super butt."

Steve gave a watery sound. Part laugh at the memory, but also part whine. Because he knows Bucky doesn't bluff.

Then he whines again when his boxers come down, leaving his ass bare and exposed. Completely unprotected.

"I'm gonna start with this hand," Bucky says, patting one cheek with his flesh hand, "go til I'm done. Then you're gonna get ten smacks with the metal hand. It's gonna hurt for sure. But you gotta trust me. Let me take care of you. That's my job. You remember your safe words, Stevie?"

"Red, yellow, green," Steve says, sniffing.

"Good boy."

And then it starts. And it's not so bad at first. Bucky definitely packs much more of a wallop now than he used to, but Steve is still a super-soldier. However, it becomes very clear very quickly that Bucky was warming him up because the intensity changes pretty fast and Steve is squirming and yelping. Bucky catches a hand before it can cover his ass and then traps Steve's legs with one of his own, letting Steve holler and cry without giving him any place to wiggle off to.

Steve has his head down, crying hard when Bucky stops, and he almost doesn't notice that he's being manhandled until it's too late. He's been flipped around, his legs are again trapped, and the metal hand is gently rubbing across his burning skin. He squirms, but Bucky's hold is too good.

"You are allowed to feel guilty, punk. It's just part of life. But you can't let it eat you up. You have to tell me before it gets bad. Ten smacks, Stevie. No need to count."

Steve steels himself, but when it happens, it's so much worse than he could ever imagine. He bucks. He hollers, but Bucky holds him tight and keeps delivering these swats. He was determined to keep track, but that was before he knew what Bucky's metal hand felt like. He lost count after two. It just hurts. That's all. That's what he feels. Absolutely nothing else. His skin doesn't feel like it's vibrating. His mind is blank. He goes limp, sobbing. Bucky delivers two more swats right to the top of Steve's thighs and he sobs louder.

But then it's over and Steve is wrapped up in Bucky's arms, cuddled up in his lap. He doesn't fit like he did before the war, but Bucky knows how to make him feel protected, loved.

When the crying subsides, Steve has his cheek pressed against Bucky's shoulder. Tilts his head up to look right into Bucky's eyes. He smiles a little when one metal finger taps his nose.

"You're a good boy, ain't you, pal?" Bucky says, "my good boy. Good job not saying anything you were thinking about yourself out loud. You know I ain't shy about washing mouths."

Steve wrinkles his nose. "The worst."

"Effective. Learned it from my ma. Heard some use hot sauce now for like… bad words and stuff."

Steve snorts. "If your ma used it for bad words, it wasn't effective. You got a mouth like a sailor, Buck."

Bucky smiles wide. "I never said none of those words to her," he says, "but it sure is effective on your pretty mouth."

"My mouth is pretty, huh?" Steve asks.

"Yup. Especially when you been crying and biting it pink and swollen. Just makes me want to kiss you."

Steve tilts his chin. "Good boys should get kisses."

"Hm, well, good boys yeah, but what about punks like you?" Bucky asks.

"Double kisses," comes the reply.

"Checks out." Bucky leans in and kisses him quick, then long and slow, not pulling away until Steve is breathless and his eyes feel glazed over.

"It's after three in the damn morning, Stevie, way past your bedtime."

That ruffles Steve's feathers a little. If he'd been less exhausted, he'd have complained that he doesn't have a bedtime. Bucky would definitely have swatted him, tweaked his ear and asked if punks got to decide shit like that. But Steve just whines. He lets himself be maneuvered. He likes that Bucky is a super-soldier now too. Because he doesn't struggle to manhandle Steve like he did just after he became Captain America. It's different, but closer to back when they were in Brooklyn.

He kicks off her boxers completely and snuggles against Bucky's front.

"Pal," Bucky says after a minute, "you been wearing my favorite shirt this whole time?"

"Smells like you. Needed it," Steve murmured.

"Well isn't that just the sweetest thing. Only barely saves you from the consequences of stretching out my favorite shirt."

"We're not broke anymore, Buck. I'll buy you a new one," Steve says, then yelps when Bucky swats him.

"Ask first, next time."

"You weren't around to ask."

Bucky is quiet a few seconds, combing his fingers through Steve's hair. "Was angry with ya, kid. But didn't know if I could enforce our rules. I should have seen how strung out you were. Not left you be. I'm sorry, Stevie."

Steve lifts his chin and gently kisses him. "You didn't ask at the beginning. Just hauled me over your knee and whupped me good when you'd decided enough was enough. Cos I was made for you, remember? Was put on this earth to be loved and cared for by you. And tough love is sometimes needed."

Bucky chuckles. "You were made just for me, Steven Grant Rogers. And I was made for you. We're back now, pal. And I ain't gonna be shirking my duties again."

"Good," Steve says, a hint of teasing, "I'm a bit too much of a wildling without you to reel me back in."

"Don't I know it," Bucky murmurs, "you know, I was thinking that it's about time we got a place of our own."

"Ours? Like back in Brooklyn? Just you and me?"

"Yep. You and me, kid. With a nice empty corner right in the living room where I can put your tanned hide on display without worrying about anybody walking in."

Steve ignores that, too happy about the idea of him and Bucky in a place of their own. With a real kitchen. Maybe a yard and a porch where they can sit and drink coffee in the mornings. Where they... can live. Together. Like they couldn't have ever done before. He wraps his arms around Bucky's neck and kisses him hard.

"Take that as a yes," Bucky laughs, holding him tight. "Love you, punk."

"Love you, Buck," Steve smiles and closes his eyes. It doesn't even take him five minutes to be dead asleep in Bucky's arms.

**Author's Note:**

> I just want to clarify that the tag of "mentioned Bad BDSM Etiquette" is honestly just for the fact that Steve says Bucky hauled him over his lap the first time when enough was enough. That DEF should have been negotiated first. 
> 
> Catch me on Tumblr at siriuslyuptonogood!


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